Saffron's Pride
by DreamWeaver529
Summary: A stranger comes aboard Andromeda, and with her comes danger. From enemies that threaten to blow the ship up, to her past that threatens to tare the crew apart. **In Progress**
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **  
  
I do not own the characters of the TV show Andromeda, or the universe they live in. I have only borrowed them for a short time. They belong to the Tribune Entertainment Company. I have also borrowed the idea of the "Peoples Republic of Haven" and the treecat species from David Webber. All original characters and situations are the property of the author.  
  
No harm was intended, nor profit made from this story. So please don't sue me.  
  
**Author's Note:**  
  
I know, I know, I know. This story should have been posted in the crossover section, but I only borrowed ideas from David Webber's "Honor Harrington" series. (Besides, I've heard that the crossover section is a black hole where stories go and are never read again.) So I beg your forgiveness, oh, powerful Readers. Please read and review.  
  
If you have never heard of the Harrington books, you don't need them for this story. The technology used in the books is not used in the story, nor is the timeline constant with the books. As I said, I only used the ideas. But you might want to check out the books anyway; they're an excellent read.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Captain Dylan Hunt stared out at the main view screen with a mixture of shock and admiration. In the space ahead of Andromeda two short distance fighters were defending a large cargo vessel from a heavy war cruiser. And doing a remarkable job of it too.  
  
"Dylan, we are being hailed by the cruiser," Rommie stood at Dylan's left, her eyes, too, on the screen in front of them.  
  
"Put it through," Dylan replied, leaning back in his chair.  
  
Dylan could sense Tyr's presence over his right shoulder. He knew the Nietszchean was standing with his arms crossed low over his abdomen, showing off the bony spines that stuck out of his forearms. Dylan also knew that his relaxed pose was just that, a pose. At the slightest provocation, the Nietszchean was prepared to jump on the weapon controls and blast any threat into teeny, tiny pieces. The thing Dylan wasn't sure about was whether this was a good thing.  
  
Beka was reclining in the slipstream control chair. Harper sat by a panel connected directly to engineering and Rev Bem stood beside him. Trance stood off to the left, chewing nervously on a fingernail. Even with his entire crew present, the bridge stood achingly empty.  
  
Dylan pushed the tight ball of pain out of his chest and concentrated on the face of the man who appeared on the view screen.  
  
"I am Captain Kerrie of the Peoples Republic of Haven. We would appreciate it if you did not interfere in this internal matter," the balding man who had appeared on the screen, didn't even look up as he spoke. And immediately following his declaration he cut the connection.  
  
"Republic, indeed," Tyr all but growled. "They are no more than thin blooded terrorists in matching costumes."  
  
Dylan glanced at Rommie, but it was Beka who spoke first.  
  
"I've heard of them," Beka said, leaning forward and pointing at the cruiser on the screen. "They're not a nice group of people, Dylan. They take what they want."  
  
"Yeah," Harper added, "and to hell with who ever is in their way."  
  
"Give me some facts, Rommie," Dylan said, turning back to look at her.  
  
"Haven is a large group of systems with an unstable economy. It seems that they have been putting most of their Gross Systems Product into their military for the last centaury or so. The problem is that most of the systems they have acquired have been in as bad shape as they are or worse."  
  
Rommie paused and took a deep breath. Her face was grim as she continued, "Their government seems to believe the only way to maintain their economy it to continue to expand. Any way necessary."  
  
Dylan nodded and turned back to the screen as he relaxed back into his chair. "Get me the cargo ship."  
  
There was a pause as Andromeda tried to make contact.  
  
"We are receiving a signal from one of the fighters, Captain," Rommie said, turning to Dylan.  
  
"Put it through," Dylan said, sitting up in his chair.  
  
The interior of the fighter was dark and cramped. Every inch of space was used, leaving no room for amenities. A woman sat at the controls. Dried blood had scabbed over a cut above her right eye, with strands of her jaw length hair stuck in it. Smudges of grease on her face and clothes testified to the fact that she had done at least some mechanical repairs herself.  
  
"I'm a little busy here," the woman said, not even looking down at her com-screen. All of her attention was on the Havenite cruiser.  
  
"I can see that," Dylan replied, a little taken aback.  
  
"Good, now that we've established the fact that you aren't a total idiot," she said, then flinched as sparks erupted behind her. Her hands flew over her control panels, "what do you want?"  
  
"This is Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant." Dylan started, getting back on track with his usual speech  
  
"We were just wondering why a Havenite Starship is trying to destroy you," Beka interrupted, leaning forward in her chair.  
  
Dylan shot Beka a dirty look. Sensing his eyes on her, she looked over at him. She raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug, "What?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Dylan looked back at the view-screen.  
  
That had gotten her attention. Looking down at her com-screen she glanced back and forth between Beka and Dylan before she met Dylan's gaze. Her deep green eyes flecked with gold sparkled with something Dylan didn't recognize. Looking down caused a strand of her curly hair to float in front of her eyes. She ran her hand through her hair, pulling the wayward strand out of her face. She also caught the strands caked in blood. She hardly flinched as the hair tore away the scab, causing the blood to begin to flow again.  
  
Her eyes returned to her tactical screen, and Dylan saw her fighter bank on the tactical display at his right elbow. She dodged the cruisers laser and ran her own its haul.  
  
"The people of Savren Prime are resisting Havenite _annexation_," she replied, the last word dripping with sarcasm. "Our cargo is medical supplies and food. The Havenites are enforcing their _trade embargos_ against the planet."  
  
The cruisers laser glanced of the fighters haul, making it buck. She pulled the fighter into a rolling dive. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."  
  
With that she cut the connection as unceremoniously as the Havenite captain.  
  
Who ever that captain was, she had spirit. She was good, too, if the damage done to the cruiser was any indication. If she had done a quarter of that in her little fighter, and managed to stay in one piece, she was one of the best small fighter pilots he had seen in a very long time.  
  
Feeling bewildered, Dylan turned to Rommie.  
  
Seeming to sense his confusion, Rommie began to fill in some of the blanks. "It appears that the communication array of the cargo ship, the Gavril Sennsa, has been damaged. That is why the fighter responded to our communication."  
  
"The other fighter?" Dylan asked.  
  
Rommie just shrugged, "Maybe she's the superior."  
  
Dylan looked back at the screen. "Get me Captain Kerrie."  
  
There was a momentary pause as Rommie secured the communication.  
  
"Yes?" Kerrie's voice was curt.  
  
"We would like to negotiate a peaceful end to this situation," Dylan replied politely, not letting the other man's rudeness get to him. Kerrie's ship was under fire at the moment and being under fire made Dylan irritable too. "If you would call a temporary cease fire…"  
  
"Captain," Kerrie cut in, "this is an internal Havenite matter. Do not interfere or we will be forced to open fire on you."  
  
Again, Kerrie cut the connection.  
  
"As if we should be afraid of him," Tyr scoffed. "His ship has all ready taken heavy damage and Andromida is unharmed. And besides," he said after another snort, "even in peak condition his ship could never take on Andromida and hope to survive."  
  
Dylan looked over his shoulder at Tyr, and saw that he was already priming the firing controls.  
  
"Andromida ready to engage," Tyr said, meeting Dylan's eyes.  
  
For a brief moment Dylan thought about reprimanding Tyr for automatically reaching for the guns at the slightest provocation, but the truth was that he had already decided himself to take on the Havenites.  
  
Dylan turned back to the main screen and nodded, "Engage the Havenite cruiser."  
  
  
  
Half an hour later Captain Hunt stood out side the doors to the docking bay. The Havenite cruiser had left the system in a hurry after Andromeda had entered the fray. The cargo ship had survived the encounter with minimal damage. Other than the communication array, the worst hit area had been the docking bays for the small fighters, meaning that only one of their fighters could dock. This left one of their birds without a nest. Dylan had automatically offered them a berth on Andromeda until repairs could be made to the Gavril Sennsa.  
  
The entire crew stood around him. They all had their reasons for meeting the new arrival. The fact that the only person that they had communicated with was a woman, and an attractive one at that, had no doubt brought Harper here. The superior flying had probably caught Beca's attention. Trance loved anything new. Rev Bem seemed to think that is was better to get his presence established as soon as possible, to avoid unpleasant surprises later. As for Tyr, there was no better way to determine how much of a threat someone posed than to meet them face to face. Rommy was there for protocol, she met everyone who came aboard.  
  
The door opened and Dylan's attention was focused on the person who walked through it. She was taller than he expected, almost as tall as he was, and moved with a fluid grace. As his eyes traveled up her blue jumpsuit he got the gut impression that she would make a strong ally or a dangerous enemy.  
  
But all thought flew from his had when his gaze reached her shoulders, or rather what was perched on the left one. The animal resembling a cat, its chin rested on the top of her head. It's round golden eyes gazed back at Dylan, almost as if it was trying to assess him. Its tan and brown fir was long, its markings beautiful. But it was the six limbs that really caught Dylan's attention. The upper most limps looked like hands, complete with prehensile thumbs, the bottom two where gripping into what was probably a padded shoulder peace. The middle two, which rested on the shoulder, looked like a mixture of the others.  
  
Dylan's attention was brought back to the woman as she stepped up to him and extended her hand, introducing her self, "Zandra Connell."  
  
"Captain Dylan Hunt," he responded. As he shook her hand he had the distinct impression that she was being vary careful about how much pressure she was exerting, she didn't look muscle bound but he was sure that she could crush his hand without really trying.  
  
  
  
Both Zandra and Hunt took a step back as he began to introduce his crew.  
  
Hunt gestured to the dark-haired woman to his left, "This is Rommey, the ship's android."  
  
Rommey nodded to Zandra, "Hello."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Zandra replied as she returned the nod.  
  
"This is my second in command," Hunt continued, gesturing to the blond to his immediate right.  
  
"Beca Valantie," Beca stepped forward and offered her hand. "Nice flying out there."  
  
"Thank you," Zandra said as she accepted Beca's handshake.  
  
Hunt turned to a light purple female beside Valantie, "This is our Environmental Officer, Trance Gemini."  
  
"Hi," Trance said with a little wave.  
  
"Hello," Zandra said with a smile, taking note of the long tail that weaved behind her.  
  
"This is Rev Ban, our local Wayest," Hunt continued.  
  
"It is always an honor to meet a follower of the Way," Zandra said with a half bow, although she did not follow the Way, she respected those that did. The fact that he was Magog only increased that respect.  
  
Not waiting for Hunt to introduce him the next person stepped froward. Taking her hand he bowed over it.  
  
"Seamus Harper, resident genius," he said before placing a light kiss on her hand while maintaining eye contact, "At your service."  
  
A playful smile pulled at her lips as she retrieved her hand, "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"Tyr Anasazi," the Nietzschean that was leaning against the wall said as he pushed him self up and turned to face her. Zandra had noticed him when she had stepped through the door, but he didn't seem to present an immediate threat. He was the only one here that could, with the possible exception of the android.  
  
Running her eyes up and down his tall frame she asked, "Which Pride?"  
  
It was his turn to look her over, "Kodiak, do you have a problem with that?"  
  
"No," Zandra replied, "I have no quarrel with the people of the Kodiak."  
  
"I take it that you have problems with some of the other Prides?" Hunt asked.  
  
"Someone in my line of work that claims to be on good terms with all of the Nietzscheans is ether a fool or a liar," she replied, keeping Tyr in sight, "I am neither."  
  
"And what 'line of work' is that?" Tyr asked, standing in front of her with his feet spread apart, his arms relaxed at his side, his hand resting near his force lance. His mail shirt showing off his build, his wide shoulders, his well defined pecks, his biceps, his triceps, his abs, all in splendid detail.  
  
"I'm an independent fighter pilot, with my own rig, contracting out my services," she replied, as she crossed her arms.  
  
"A mercenary," he said with a nod, as if that explained everything.  
  
"So, your not a part of the Gavril Sennsa's crew?" Hunt asked.  
  
"Not permanently," she said, returning her attention to Hunt. "Once the Sennsa has reached Savren Prime I'll be looking for a new contract."  
  
"Oh," Hunt said before he was cut off by Trance.  
  
"Who's your friend?" Trance asked, sounding full of naive curiosity.  
  
Zandra smiled, reached up and ran a finger down her 'cat's chest, "This is Leonna. She's a Treecat, a indigenous species from my home planet."  
  
"She's beautiful," Trance said, her voice full of awe. "May I pet her?"  
  
"You better ask her that," Zandra said, her smile widening.  
  
The purple alien approached and standing on her teepee-toes she reached up and extended her hand, fingers curled down. "Hello there, can I pet you?"  
  
Zandra watched Trance's eyes widen in surprise as Leonna rapped her hands around her wrist, bringing her hand up to the 'cat's nose. After a quick sniff, Leonna rolled her head in Trance's hand, putting it in perfect position to scratch behind her ear. Trance tentatively did just that and was rewarded with a deep purr from Leonna.  
  
"Leonna is a pretty name," Rommie said.  
  
"It suits her," Zandra replied.  
  
"That it does," Rommie said with a smile.  
  
Zandra watched as Hunt looked at Rommy, as if waiting for an explanation.  
  
"It means 'Lion'," Rommie supplied.  
  
"You know," Zandra said, returning her attention to the 'cat, "you might get a better scratching if you move down closer to her."  
  
Giving her a dirty look, Leonna ignored Zandra's offered hand to lift her down to rest in Zandra's arms. Instead she sat up, reaching for Trance with both her true-hands and hand-paws.  
  
With a smile, Trance reached up for Leonna. Surprise flashed across her face as she took the full weight of the 'cat in her arms.  
  
"I'll show you to your quarters," Trance said as the 'cat made herself comfortable. "Oh, if that's alright with you, Captain."  
  
"Go ahead," Hunt said, waving them down the corridor.  
  
Zandra followed Trance, very aware that she gave the Nietzschean her undefended back.  
  
  
  
Zandra gave a sigh of relief as she finally stood alone in the quarters that had been assigned to her for her stay. It had taken an out and out refusal to go to the Med-deck for Trance to leave it alone. The little purple alien was pusher than she looked, but she had finally given up, insisting, even as she left, that if Zandra felt at all ill, or dizzy, or sore, she should go to the Med-deck as soon as possible.  
  
Looking around, Zandra took in her spacious quarters. They were much larger than she had anticipated, but on a ship built for thousands that only had crew of six, space probably wasn't at a premium.  
  
Tossing her duffle bag on the bed beside Leonna, Zandra stretched her arms above her head. Looking down, she saw Leonna was giving her one of her arch looks.  
  
"What?" Zandra asked, trying to sound innocent. The change in the 'cat's expression would be impermeable to someone who did not know her. But Zandra had known Leonna for a very long time, and recognized her 'You-know-what-I-mean' looks. Sighing, Zandra stretched to the left, her fingers still linked together over her head. "There's no harm in looking you know, and even you must admit, he's nice to look at."  
  
It was Leonna's turn to roll her eyes, before she began to make herself a comfeey spot on the bed.  
  
"Don't get too comfortable," Zandra told her, "we won't be hear long." 


	2. Chapter 2

Zandra let out a low whistle as the doors to the Observation Deck slid open.  
  
"Impressive, isn't it?" Harper's voice said over her shoulder, "The view is great too."  
  
"I'm used to being surrounded by space," Zandra replied, "but I'm not used to this much room."  
  
"That's one thing Andromida has a lot of, room," Harper continued, stepping up beside her, his hand absently rubbing his belly, "you can almost feel alone some times."  
  
"I'm never that," Zandra laughed, running a finger under Leonna's chin.  
  
Harper's smile didn't reach his eyes. "So would you like a tour of the ship?"  
  
"I'd love one," Zandra replied, turning towards him, "I think if I tried looking around on my own I'd just end up lost."  
  
"Good, we could go to Hydroponics, then I can take you to my shop and show you what my ingenious brain has been concocting lately."  
  
"Great," a voice said from behind her, "You'll be done just in time to join me in my quarters for dinner."  
  
Zandra through Leonna a dirty look for not warning her of his presence before turning to face Captain Hunt.  
  
"Why do I have the feeling that invitation doesn't include me?"  
  
Hunt ignored Harper's interruption, his eyes still on Zandra, "Just a quiet meal, some jaran stakes, a little bit of Calypso wine, and I have some Nakra fudge, it's supposed to be the best in the galaxy."  
  
Just the thought of such an exquisite meal made her mouth water, and her penny-pinching mine reel at the expenses. "Isn't that a tad bit extravagant?"  
  
"Maybe," Hunt said, crossing his arms over his chest, "but if we don't eat it, it will just go to waste."  
  
Zandra resisted the urge to cross her own arms and tried to gauge his mood. He was curious, probably about her and her motives for helping the Savren Prime, and probably about Leonna as well. He fond her attractive, physically at least. And he was also a little anxious; about a stranger aboard his ship or the possibility of her turning him down she couldn't tell.  
  
"That would be great," she said, feeling his anxiety level drop but not dissipate, a little of both then.  
  
She heard Harper groan beside her. She turned to face him, "Shall we?"  
  
He smiled, and offered his arm with a bow.  
  
Taking his arm, she through one last smile at Hunt before following Harper down the corridor.  
  
  
  
Zandra sat at the table, trying to concentrate on Hunt as he recounted the adventures and close calls the Andromeda had had since the ship had been pulled from the event horizon of the black hole. But her mind kept drifting back to Harper's tour. They had wound their way around Hydroponics before Harper had taken her to the gym. The doors whirred open and she stepped inside and was confronted with the sight of Tyr's naked back as he beat up a punching bag.  
  
She watched the play of mussels on his back and arms with more than a little appreciation. The fabric of his skintight pants clung to his legs like a second skin.   
  
Leonna clicked her teeth in disapproval at Zandra's blatant scrutiny. Zandra absently ran a hand down Leonna's neck, making a conscious effort not to drool.  
  
Her eyes flicked back to his face and she saw him catch sight of her out of the corner of his eye.  
  
He spun away from her on one foot, bringing the other to connect solidly with the top of the bag, ripping it from its hangings and sending it hurtling across the room.  
  
"Is all the exercise equipment on Andromeda that...flimsy?" Zandra asked Harper, her eyes locked with Tyr's.  
  
"So, where are you from?" Hunt's direct question brought Zandra out of her memory.  
  
"A little planet in the middle of no where," she answered with a shrug.  
  
"Why did you leave?" Hunt asked as he stretched in his chair, his leg brushing hers under the table.  
  
"A difference of opinion," Zandra replied, tucking her feet under her chair. Ignoring the warning glair from Leonna from her seat on the table, Zandra continued, "I figured that I had the right to protect myself from a physical assault, and they thought that I should have used less than lethal means."  
  
Hunt spluttered on a sip of wine, "You killed some one?"  
  
Zandra leaned back in her chair and shrugged, "He attacked me, I defended myself."  
  
Zandra watched in silence as Hunt absorbed this news. His shock and disbelief were quickly replaced by admiration and a little bit of fear. "How old were you?"  
  
"Eighteen," she replied softly, the hand still stroking Leonna resting on her back, "Leonna had just come into my life, I had been accepted into one of the finest schools, things were looking up, finally."  
  
"And then you were attacked," Hunt said, sorrow more than pity in his voice.  
  
"Yes," she replied. Smiling she met his eyes, "It was decided that it would be mutually beneficial if I just left."  
  
"That's a little harsh, for justifiable homicide."  
  
Zandra shrugged, not really wanting to go into that peace of history again. "Since then I've been around a lot, learned to fly, barter, survive. It could have been worse. At least I had Leonna."  
  
She could feel his discomfort. His curiosity warring with his need not to upset her further. His sensitivity began to win, but the old feelings the memories had stirred up left her in no mood to be placated.  
  
Standing up, she brought a rather disgusted Leonna to her shoulder. "It's been a long day, I think I better turn in."  
  
"Yes of course," Hunt said, rising, "let me walk you to your quarters."  
  
"Thank you, but I'm sure I can find my way," smiling, she made her way to the door. "Thank you for a lovely dinner, Captain Hunt."  
  
"Please call me Dylan," he said, following her.  
  
"Goodnight, Dylan," she stepped out of the doors and walked down the hallway.  
  
After they rounded the first corner, Leonna clicked her teeth unhappily.  
  
"You ate more than you should have anyway," she told the 'cat, playing mindlessly with the end of her tale, "anymore would have made you sick."  
  
Leonna issued a few light hisses and continued to gnash her teeth.  
  
"Yes, I know that the meet was good, I had some, granted more cooked than yours, but..." she stopped as the door to her rooms opened up.  
  
She stretched one shoulder as she made her way to her bedroom. Stepping over the threshold she stopped dead.  
  
Sitting stretched out on her bed was Tyr Anasazi. 


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't general knowledge, even on their planet of origin, that treecats were both receptive and projective telepaths.  
  
It was known that a 'cat could sense the emotional state of it's companion. But if the average citizen had taken time out of their busy and harmonious lives to try to figure it out, they would have deduced that the 'cats were merely picking up on body-language and possibly chemical markers like pheromones. Even most companions were not aware of the depth of the bond between the 'cat and themselves.  
  
'cats could, in fact, feed their host not only the 'cats emotions, but also the emotions of the people around them.  
  
And at the moment, Leonna was picking up pure, unadulterated, lust.  
  
Not that Zandra was surprised. Nietzscheans were driven by lust like a volcano was driven by lava. Hot. Continues. And deadly.  
  
What surprised Zandra was that such intensity was directed at herself. The fact that he was looking at a non-Nietzschean like that meant that his genetic imperative to reproduce was on overload. And he might be ready to settle.  
  
Leonna's sharp, carnivorous, teeth sank into the shell of Zandra's ear, just hard enough to draw blood, followed by her own negative appraisal of the situation. That even though he, and even Zandra, might be willing to settle, _she was not_. And even if he did settle at the moment, there was no way they could be assured of the permanency of that decision. Actually, the only thing they could be assured of was, that if given a chance, he would take any Nietzschean female he could. And they both knew what would happen then. So, it was best for all concerned if their little secret remained theirs.  
  
Zandra had no choice but to concede. And seeming he was obviously genetically superior, Zandra had no doubt that he would be chosen by more than one Nietzschean female to be the father of her children.  
  
Leonna abruptly pulled out of Zandra's mind, taking Tyr's lust with her.  
  
Tyr hadn't moved during this ten second exchanged. He lay there, propped up on his elbow, legs crossed at the ankles. The picture of sinful pleasure. Leonna removed her teeth from Zandra's ear to click them together sharply, not at all impressed that the lust was mutual. This was not a good thing. Zandra couldn't agree more. Well, almost.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, gripping the full sleeves of her blouse between her pinky and ring fingers.  
  
"What are _you_ doing here?"  
  
To answer a question with the same question, how...Nietzschean.  
  
She decided that interpreting his question literally, and answering that she was planning to go to bed, was not the smartest course of action. Being literal and obtuse with Nietzscheans might be good for laughs, but when you where alone with one, especially a...sexually frustrated one, getting them mad was definitely not the best policy. Nether was telling them truth. Or at least all of it. She had found out long ago that it was best to give a Nietzschean the least information you could get away with.  
  
"Your captain offered me safe passage-"  
  
"There is more to it than that, and we both know it." He came off the bed fast, appearing over her almost before she had seen him move. Her body was enveloped in his heat. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face. One of his long braids brushed her cheek. The urge to run her fingers through his hair to get it under control flowed through her body like hot honey. She balled her hands at her sides, her sleeves still firmly in her grasp. Far away, almost as a footnote, she felt Leonna tense on her shoulder, readying herself for a fatal leap.  
  
"How could it be more," she said, surprised at how normal her voice sounded, "How could I know Andromeda would show up while we were engaging the Havenites."  
  
"Why you and not the other pilot?"  
  
After a quick strategy check, she shrugged, "Marko doesn't like to be away from his wife for long."  
  
"Yet he is a fighter pilot?" he arched one eyebrow.  
  
She chuckled, "I said he was in love, not smart."  
  
  
  
Her laugh went through Tyr like a tidal wave. His first instinct was to catch the sound with his mouth, to feel it vibrate through his entire body. His second was to get as far away from her as possible so that he couldn't. He repressed both. They would let her know how much power she had over him.  
  
But why? Why did she have this power over him. Granted, she was beautiful, remarkably so. Strong and talented. But there had to be something more. And he had to get away from her to figure it out. The smell of her was inviting, and too damn distracting.  
  
Before he could think of a reason to leave, she gave one to him.  
  
"Get out of my room. If there is anything else we need to discuss we can do it later."  
  
As fierce as her words were, she wasn't mad. Actually, she smiled, and another round of intense possibilities ran through his mind and body. Now he really needed to leave. But as much as he did, he couldn't leave her thinking she was in control.  
  
He reached up and ran the back of his fingers down the side of her face, smiling himself at her indrawn breath. He leaned close to her, so that there lips brushed as he spoke, "We will, I promise."  
  
He straitened up and left the room a lot more casually than he felt.  
  
  
  
Trance sat in her room, absently running a hand over a plant frond, trying to figure out what was bothering her about Zandra. Something was off, but she just couldn't put her tail on it.  
  
It had to do with her clothes. But there was nothing strange about the jumpsuit Zandra had been wearing when she first came aboard Andromeda. It wasn't so tight to restrict movement, nor so loose to get caught on anything. And the pouches on her belt and forearms just meant that she did some of her own repairs, an assumption supported by the large grease stains.  
  
Then when Harper had shown her through hydroponics she had been in wide leg pants and a blouse.  
  
No, nothing strange there.  
  
Oh well, Trance shrugged, she liked a good mystery, kept things interesting. 


End file.
